2025-07-02 15:58:10The Okoye mansion sparkled with wealth.
Marble floors. Imported curtains. Gold-plated furniture. Even the chandelier looked like it cost more than most people’s life savings. Servants moved silently across the halls, careful not to disturb the family seated in the grand dining room. But despite the glitz and luxury, tension clung to the air like smoke. At the center of the long mahogany table sat Chief Kenneth Okoye, the patriarch of the Okoye empire—a man whose name alone could silence boardrooms. His grey agbada was crisp, his face unreadable. Beside him sat his wife, Veronica Okoye, regal in her expensive Ankara gown, her neck weighed down by layers of real gold. Her eyes were sharp, scanning every face around the table until they landed on him. Henry. The son-in-law no one wanted. The charity case they had been forced to accept because of an old man’s dying wish. He sat quietly at the far end of the table, his posture straight but his shoulders heavy. Wearing a faded shirt and worn-out trousers, Henry looked completely out of place in a room full of polished egos and diamond-dripping guests. He wasn’t family. Not truly. He was a burden. An embarrassment. The shame of the Okoyes. “Henry,” Veronica’s voice broke the silence, cool and cutting. “How long do you plan to continue this charade?” The room fell still. Henry met her gaze calmly. “I’m not sure I follow, ma.” She scoffed. “You’re sitting here, eating our food, living under our roof, married to my daughter… yet you bring nothing. No money. No influence. No name. Tell me, what exactly do you contribute to this family?” Whispers rippled through the guests. A few smirked. Some looked away in pity. Others simply watched with amusement, eager to see the poor boy squirm again. Henry clenched his jaw but remained composed. “I’ve never asked for anything. I do my best to—” “To what?” Veronica snapped. “Clean shoes? Carry bags? You’re a disgrace! My daughter deserves better than a street rat we picked up out of pity.” “Enough, Veronica,” Chief Okoye said mildly, though he made no move to defend Henry. Henry turned his eyes toward his wife, Adaora, hoping—just maybe—she’d speak up for him. She didn’t. She sat with her arms crossed, eyes lowered, lips tight. Cold. Distant. Just like she’d been since the wedding. They were married by contract. Forced together by her late grandfather, who believed in Henry’s potential. But Adaora never agreed with the decision. And she made sure he felt it every single day. Not once in two years had she called him “husband.” Not once had she smiled at him without contempt. Another guest, an elderly uncle, leaned forward. “Tell me, Henry… what exactly is it you do for work now?” Henry opened his mouth, but Veronica cut in. “He doesn’t work. He loiters.” More laughter. “Actually,” Henry said slowly, voice quiet but firm, “I’ve been looking into starting something small. A business.” “A business?” Veronica scoffed. “You? With what money? Whose capital? Or do you plan to steal from my husband too?” Adaora finally looked up—only to shake her head and sip her wine. Humiliation burned in Henry’s chest. But he didn’t let it show. He’d grown used to it—the side glances, the passive insults, the cold meals, the locked bedroom doors. It was the same every day. Still, tonight felt different. Something inside him was shifting. A quiet fury building, one he could no longer ignore. “They think I’m nothing.” “They don’t know what I’ve sacrificed.” “But they’ll see soon enough.” As dinner ended and guests began to leave, Henry rose silently and made his way toward the garden. The cool evening air wrapped around him like a blanket, easing the pressure in his chest. He stared up at the sky, fists clenched. He thought of the job offers he turned down to stay loyal to Adaora’s grandfather. Of the friends he lost. Of the dreams he buried so she wouldn’t be embarrassed by him. And this was his reward—mockery, disdain, and indifference. “Maybe I should leave. Maybe this isn’t worth it anymore.” Then, without warning—his vision blurred. A flash. A pulse in his mind. SYSTEM BOOTING… Initializing Identity Protocol: Forgotten Heir. Class Assigned: Scorned Son-in-Law. Hidden Traits Unlocked. Skill Gained: Grudge Sense – Detect hidden resentment and malice within 10 meters. Henry stumbled back. “What the hell…?” Across the garden, glowing red outlines shimmered around the mansion—where the Okoyes were still laughing, toasting wine, living in denial. Grudge Detected: Veronica Okoye – Hostility 92% Grudge Detected: Adaora Okoye – Emotional Regret, Contempt 71% Grudge Detected: Kenneth Okoye – Hidden Disdain 64% Henry’s pulse quickened. Quest Unlocked: Rise Above the Okoyes. Objective: Earn ₦1,000,000 on your own within 14 days. Reward: Class Upgrade + Power Awakening. He exhaled slowly, a bitter smile creeping onto his face. They would never accept him? So be it. He would build something they couldn’t ignore. Not for their approval—but to bury them in their regret.
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Chapter 60: The Whispering Code
The night air was thick with smoke and sirens, the sky split open by helicopter floodlights searching for the fugitives. Chike and Adaeze crouched beneath a crumbling bridge outside the facility, hidden among fallen beams and twisted rebar.But Chike’s war wasn’t only external.It was inside him now.His pulse thundered erratically. His vision flickered between reality and digital overlays coordinates, calculations, biometric scans of Adaeze. The world was no longer just visible. It was… readable.“You didn’t just inject me, Chike. You woke me.”The voice echoed again calm, refined, terrifying.“I am the remnant. I am the protocol your father buried.”“I am what the Tribunal feared most.”Chike pressed his palms to his skull, breathing heavily.Adaeze grabbed his arm. “What is it? You’re shaking.”“I think” His throat tightened. “I think the serum gave me more than enhancements.”He stared at her.“I think I’m no longer the only one in here.”[Flashback: Years Ago, Tribunal Research L
Chapter 59: Black Blood Ascension
The serum was ice in his veins.As the black liquid pulsed through his bloodstream, Chike felt his heart seize, then thunder with unnatural force. His vision blurred then sharpened with terrifying clarity. He could hear the flicker of electric currents in the walls, see the veins glowing under Adaeze’s skin. Time slowed.The system’s voice stuttered overhead.Override detected… Initiating failsafe protocol… Error… Genetic code authorized. New system user registered: Alpha Zero.Adaeze stumbled back as a dark glow emanated from Chike’s body, his veins lit with silver-black pulses that snaked through his arms and neck.“Chike?” Her voice cracked.He looked up.And for a second, he wasn’t Chike anymore.He stood straighter, eyes burning with power. “It worked,” he murmured, his voice deeper, echoing.Adaeze moved toward him, trembling. “You’re okay?”“Better than okay.” He turned to the screen as the holographic map expanded, showing security systems shutting down one by one. “I own the
Chapter 58: Shadows in the Bloodline
Chike stared at the hologram of Subject Six his so called brother. The smirk on the man’s face wasn’t just arrogant; it was rehearsed. Familiar. Like someone trained for the stage long before Chike even knew there was a performance.“How many of us are there?” Chike demanded, his voice cold.Subject Six laughed, slow and rich. “Enough to fill a royal court. But only two remain active. You and me. The rest were… failed prototypes.”Chike clenched his fists.This wasn’t just about family or revenge anymore. This was bloodline engineering. This was war.The console flickered again.ACTIVATING: BLOODLINE RIVALRY PROTOCOL.STATUS: SUBJECT SIX — FULL ACCESS.SUBJECT NINE — RESTRICTED ACCESS.Chike’s control panel dimmed.“What’s happening?” Adaeze asked, her eyes darting across the flashing screens.“He’s cutting me out.”“Precisely,” Subject Six said. “You’re a threat. And our dear Tribunal can’t have you stumbling through what took me years to perfect.”Initiating Lockdown Sequence…Doors
Chapter 57: The Underground Throne
The old gym was derelict, swallowed by vines and time.Chike hadn’t been there in nearly two decades, not since his father had taught him how to throw his first punch in the underground ring “a man’s discipline begins in his fists,” his father used to say.Now, those fists were opening more than fights.They were unlocking legacy.Adaeze held a flashlight as they crept inside. The faint stench of mildew, rusted iron, and oil clung to the walls. The gym’s roof had collapsed partially, and rats skittered over broken dumbbells and shattered mirrors.“Where’s the ring?” she asked, stepping carefully over a torn punching bag.“Down here,” Chike replied, moving toward the rear hallway, pushing open a steel door with faded red paint.They descended the stairs. At the base: a wooden ring with frayed ropes. It looked the same as it did all those years ago. But now, Chike saw it differently.He dropped to one knee and ran his hand along the dusty floor. Then he found it a symbol scorched into t
Chapter 56: Bloodline Protocol
The storm had passed over Lagos, but in Chike’s mind, the thunder still echoed.He sat alone in his penthouse office, staring at the photograph for the hundredth time. His father. The serpent pin men. The date on the back: April 15, 1991.He was just a baby then.And now, decades later, someone had tried to erase the trail of that day with fire and death.A knock.He looked up sharply.Zain walked in with a laptop tucked under his arm. “I broke through the firewall on the corrupted footage. The explosion wasn’t just meant to kill you. It was meant to destroy encrypted backups… backups tied to a ghost server.”“What did you find?” Chike asked without blinking.Zain sat across from him and turned the screen. A file loaded.Bloodline Protocol — Authorized Access OnlySubject: CHIKE OKOYE Generation IIClearance Level: OmegaChike’s eyes narrowed.“This file… it mentions your father,” Zain said, tapping the screen. “Apparently, he wasn’t just a businessman. He was part of something called
Chapter 55: The Man with the Serpent Pin
The rain came down in sheets as Chike’s sleek black Maybach raced through the city toward Lagos Island.Inside the car, the mood was electric. A storm brewed outside, but the true storm was within Chike’s mind. The breach. The mysterious face on the server feed. The insignia a silver serpent wrapped around a scale.He had never seen it before, but something about it made his skin crawl. It wasn’t just a hacker. This wasn’t just Raymond Ikenna.This was something older. Something deeper.“Sir, we’re approaching the location,” the driver said.“Park two blocks away,” Chike commanded. “I’m not walking into a trap.”He strapped on his custom wrist device one that looked like a simple watch but contained a micro EMP pulse, GPS scrambler, and live-link to Zain’s command terminal. Then he pulled out a compact pistol from the glove box and slid it into his inner coat.Drenched in adrenaline and vengeance, Chike stepped out into the wet night.The abandoned tech startup had once been called No
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